


Lost and Found

by find_nowhere



Category: Nashville (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-13
Updated: 2015-12-11
Packaged: 2018-04-30 18:14:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5174183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/find_nowhere/pseuds/find_nowhere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Planning is a major part of Emily's skillset. But there are some things no one can plan for with Juliette Barnes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is set during and after S4E6 - "Please Help Me, I'm Fallin." 
> 
> I started writing this before Episode 7 aired and I guess it could be an alternate version. How I still manage to ship Juliette and Emily, I don't even know. I'm continually baffled by my own ships.
> 
> **omg SPOILER ALERT for the events that take place in S4E6 - if you haven't watched it then TURN BACK NOW (unless you're into spoilers)**

Emily cringed. She was in her kitchen, rummaging for a corkscrew to open a bottle of wine when she heard the name "Juliette Barnes" emanate from her television. Wasn't there anything else going on in the world? The mere name of her former (and technically still, she supposed) employer hit a nerve. Juliette had always been a loose cannon, but she seemed to have boarded the crazy train with no intention of getting off now.

She blocked out the droning of the news report and started to remove the cork of her wine. She wondered briefly when her paychecks would stop coming. It was likely a payroll oversight and she figured she should probably start looking for other gainful employment to prepare. It wasn't likely that Avery would match her salary if she just worked as Cadence's babysitter. It also didn't seem terribly likely that Juliette would be asking her to come back anytime soon. She'd been warned about Juliette. Most of her assistants quit before they were fired. She wasn't even exactly fired and the whole situation lacked a certain closure. She made a mental note to have Glenn write her a letter of recommendation. Getting one from Juliette would be nearly impossible and there was no guarantee she would even write her a good one. This made Emily a bit sadder than she cared to admit. 

She could block out the TV chatter, but she couldn't block out the ringing and then buzzing of her phone just as she went to pour her wine into a glass. She glanced at the screen and saw that it was Avery then sighed. She was glad she hadn't actually poured the wine because he probably needed help with the baby. Wine and babies don't really mix. 

She answered, "Hey." And immediately asked, "Everything ok?"

Avery said exasperated, "Guess who just texted me? You get two tries and the first one doesn't count."

"Ok. Dolly Parton."

"Good thing the first one didn't count," he laughed, but it was obviously forced. She could even tell over the phone.

"Juliette," she responded with her own forced laugh. "Maybe I'll be next then. I need some crazy to liven up my evening." He didn't need any baby assistance after all, so she cradled her phone against her ear with her shoulder and poured her glass of wine then started for her sofa. 

"All it said was "I'm sorry." For what? Does she even know what she's sorry for? Is she apologizing to me for going off the rails and attacking that girl?"

"I don't know, Avery." She only half-listened to him and focused on changing the channel. She wasn't paying much attention to what flickered across the TV screen either. She wondered what Juliette was up to.

"I called Jeff after that girl's apology and he said she was fine, but...I just...I don't know. She can't be fine. Everyone keeps telling me she's not my problem anymore. Even Glenn. He said to cut myself off emotionally. What does that even mean?"

"I don't know," she said absently, still flipping through channels. She knew what Glenn meant. She'd been trying to do it.

"I deleted her number," Avery said abruptly.

"That's a pretty good step in the direction of cutting yourself off. If you change your mind her number's still somewhere in my Recent Calls from when she accused me of sleeping with you." She attempted to make light of the situation, not necessarily for Avery's benefit. "I hope you don't plan on completely flip-flopping and driving down there tonight. I can't watch Cadence."

"You can't? What are you doing?" He snapped. This information seemed to baffle him.

"I'm having a glass of wine and going to bed. Not that I don't love spending time with Cadence, but-"

"No, no. I understand. I'm sorry for that. I've already put Cadence to bed. I'm just worried about her, I guess."

"I'm worried too, but what can we do?" She answered her own question, "Nothing. You can't help someone that doesn't want help."

"What if she does want help? What if all of this is just-"

"Avery," she said sternly, cutting him off.

"I"m sorry I called you, Em. I thought...I dunno...I thought you might say something different."

"And if I had?"

He paused, "I don't know exactly."

"Look, it's probably for the best that you ignored her text and deleted her number. And it sounds like you need some rest too. Take advantage of your kiddo sleeping. I'll come over in the morning if you want. It isn't like I have an actual job or anything."

"Thanks, Em," he said quietly. "I don't know how you put up with her for so long."

"Who? Cadence? Cadence is great," she joked. "Oh, you meant Juliette. I'm patient," she chuckled. "I also like to think I kept her from going completely bananas. She never attacked any fans on my watch at least."

He forced another laugh, "That's true. Have a good night and thanks again. For everything. Really."

"Night," she said and hung up. She tossed her phone next to her on the couch and rubbed her neck. It felt sore from supporting her phone as she held her wine and the TV remote.

For several minutes she continued to flip aimlessly through channels and kept looking at her phone. She definitely had Juliette's number from when she called her with the insane accusations about her and Avery. She hadn't saved it, but she knew it was there. She sighed, sat down her wine and picked up her phone instead. It only took a few seconds of scrolling through her Recent Calls to find the number. 

She texted: _Hey. You ok?_

Then she waited. She stared at the screen. She waited for the message to at least appear as 'Read' and then go ignored, but it just sat there marked as 'Delivered.' This bothered her. She began thinking of assorted scenarios to explain the Juliette drama of the day and then little things leading up to the current moment. She was probably drunk and feeling remorse that she wouldn't remember in the morning. She probably texted Avery before passing out.

The TV remote slipped from Emily's hand and clattered to the floor, bringing her back to reality. She may have been on Juliette's payroll - and still was, apparently - but she actually did care about the stupid girl. She tried to remind herself how awful Juliette could be, how unbearable and horrible, selfish, inconsiderate...and the list went on. Emily hated herself a little for caring at all. She hated herself a little more for it, especially after acting so nonchalant on the phone with Avery. She knew how Avery felt. She wasn't married to Juliette and obviously didn't have a baby with her, but the recent news had her stomach in knots. She was torn between drinking her glass of wine and driving down to Atlanta. What she would do when she got there, she didn't know exactly. Probably just drive back, kicking herself the entire way. Juliette only cared about her when she wanted a latte. 

Phone in hand, she took her glass of wine to the kitchen and slid it into the refrigerator with an annoyed groan. She paced between the kitchen and the door, clutching her phone and checking it periodically. She stayed composed for Avery. One of them needed to keep their shit together and he had more right to let his shit fall apart than her. Again, she reminded herself that she was on Juliette's payroll. She was nothing more than an employee. Avery was her husband and the father of her kid.

"It's only a four-hour drive," she muttered under her breath and picked up her purse. 

~~~~~

For the entire first half of the drive Emily thought a great deal about turning around, but didn't. The knots in her stomach turned into a gnawing, nervous feeling. She'd been worried all day, but now she felt like something terrible may have happened. She didn't have any rational basis for the feeling and Avery's call seemed to be the trigger. She thought maybe the terrible thing was the very idiocy she was engaged in at the moment or maybe it just stemmed from her concern. Once she reached the halfway point, she decided that she'd driven too far to turn around and may as well keep going all the way. The final half of the drive felt like forever and consisted largely of her hoping Avery wouldn't call because she didn't want to seem like a hypocrite. She also didn't want to seem crazy. Oh boy, she really didn't want to seem crazy. Poor Avery had enough crazy girl in his life with Juliette.

As she approached the hotel, traffic slowed to almost a complete halt. Atlanta had infamously awful traffic at pretty much all times of day and night, so it didn't strike her as particularly odd. Luke Wheeler had also thrown a party at the hotel she was trying to get to, so there was that to contend with as well. She assumed the back-up was just people trying to leave. But then she saw the ambulance, police cars with flashing lights and news crews. This was happening all around the very hotel she was trying to get to. The feeling in her stomach turned into a nauseating churning and an onslaught of new scenarios pummeled her thoughts. They all revolved around Juliette, of course. Juliette Barnes murdered someone. Juliette killed Luke Wheeler. She hadn't even considered how she'd get into the hotel or how she'd find Juliette. She was usually much better at planning. Planning was a major part of her skillset since she was a personal assistant and all.

She circled the block around the hotel. People were congesting the sidewalk just like the cars were congesting the street, but foot traffic around the hotel seemed to be moving even less. People were huddled here and there then milling together with no clear purpose. The traffic stemmed from people rubbernecking and she found herself doing the same as she made her way around a second time.

She glimpsed a bit of yellow police tape and a lot of officers trying to keep media and other random people away from something. A body - she knew it. It had to be. She ended up parking several blocks away then walking. She managed to overhear enough to send her nearly into a complete panic. The onlookers chattered away about someone jumping off of the building. The someone was most certainly dead. Or at least that's what everyone seemed to believe. The someone was a man and Emily felt some guilty relief as she weaved between people and made her way toward the hotel's entrance. She shuttered, still unable to shake her intense worry. It seemed even more justified now that she was here and the air was buzzing with confusion and sick curiosity.

"I can't let you in, ma'am," a burly, bald man and employee of the hotel, extended his arm and blocked her path. "You either need a pass or a room key." He spoke slowly and Emily implied that he'd already said this to her and she hadn't heard him because she was trying ridiculously hard to remain collected.

She stammered, looking at his employee nametag, "Err...Tim, I'm, uh, Juliette Barnes' personal assistant-"

He cut her off, "And I'm Elvis. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, ma'am."

"Can I get a room?"

He shook his head, "Fully booked."

She hadn't thought this out at all. She started back toward her car because she had nowhere else to go. She wasn't driving back to Nashville, not yet. She wanted Juliette to fire her, she decided. Once fired, she could properly give Juliette a piece of her mind. She wasn't yet certain what piece of her mind she'd be giving her.


	2. Chapter 2

Emily may not have thought this whole gesture through so well, but she wasn't totally dumb. After sitting in her car and mulling over her foolish idea for a few minutes, she returned to the hotel. She started congregating with the rest of the people on the street still trying to glimpse the dead body or whatever they were trying to do. Eventually, someone would go back into the hotel. All she needed to do was slink in with them. She wasn't sure how good she was at slinking, but it was worth a shot.

Apparently they'd finally scooped up the poor dead guy's body, but there was a mess of brains on the asphalt or something. This was what everyone was chattering about. No one knew who it was. Probably some random guy. She picked up more bits and pieces of conversations as she skulked around the hotel. She was hoping to run into someone using one of the side entrances and not one of the main entrances. 

The Fates decided to smile on her. As she rounded the corner she spotted a door slowly shutting. She made a quick dash forward and snagged the handle before it closed and locked. She heard the laughter and murmuring of the group that had gone in before her. Their voices echoed in the stairwell. Now she needed to figure out where to find Juliette in the huge hotel that probably had hundreds of rooms. A good place to start would be in the vicinity of any bar, the vicinity of wherever the party took place, or anything like that. 

The lobby was still bustling despite the late hour and people were mostly talking about the mysterious jumper. Emily knew people. She knew Jeff and Layla, some of the sound people still on tour with Juliette, a couple of the roadies. She didn't see a single familiar face though. She maneuvered through the people just as she had done outside and she listened for any bits of conversation that might be relevant. Nothing. Juliette beating down a fan was already old news. It was trumped by the dead guy. The hotel bars were all closed and the party seemed mostly packed up.

When she was beginning to think that she was really, really stupid for doing this, she heard something that sent off the bells and whistles in her super-alert, extremely-exhausted mind.

"Dude, on my way down, I think I saw Juliette Barnes in the hallway. She looked hella passed out on the floor."

Emily turned and immediately honed in on the gangly guy that just got off of the elevator to join his friends that were congregating nearby.

"What floor?" Emily asked.

"Huh?" he turned and said confusedly. His friends all stop their chatter and look in her direction as well.

She asks a more clear question, "Where did you see Juliette Barnes?"

"Lady, I don't know if it was even her," he says and stepped back. "What are you? Another crazy stalker? She hits her fans in the face, didn't you hear?"

She rolled her eyes and speaks angrily, "What God damn floor?" 

"Twenty-seven," he answered after what felt like an unnecessarily long time to Emily. She has very little patience at the moment. She doesn't thank him and when she started for the elevator, she heard him mumble under his breath, "Crazy bitch."

Under other circumstances she perhaps would have cared, but she was on a mission. She mashed the up button repeatedly as if it will accelerate the return of an elevator, knowing full-well that it wouldn't. With a ping the doors of one of the elevators slid open and it feels like it takes an eternity to get up to twenty-seven although it makes no other stops on the way. She's immediately overcome with worry that Juliette managed to drag her stupid, drunk self into her room in the minutes it took her to get to the twenty-seventh floor. She'll never find her. She can't very well knock on every door at this ungodly hour. She already made some boys think she was a nut and if she woke every sleeping person up on the floor, one of them would be bound to call security and that wouldn't be conducive to her plan.

Her plan - whatever the hell it was - melted away as soon as she sees the lump of a person about halfway down the hall to her right. Emily knows that it is, in fact, Juliette. It's not some other random drunk blonde, not some Juliette look-a-like. She ran down the hall without a second thought to the un-moving form, her heart pounding in her throat. 

"Juliette?" She knelt down and placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. "Juliette?" The blonde is limp, her cheeks tear-streaked. "Juliette, hey. It's me, Emily," she says and tries to sit her up. "God, are you dead, you idiot?"

When Emily managed to get her partially upright, Juliette lets out a sound like a combination of a snore and a gasp. 

"Not dead. That's good. I can't tell you how shitty of a person you are if you're dead," Emily mumbled as she supported her lolling head and begins to gently pat her on the cheek. Her pats became more and more forceful until they were nearly legitimate slaps. 

Juliette whimpered and shoved her away suddenly before collapsing back down onto the carpet. She slurred, "Get-way from me...lemme 'lone."

"Where's your room, Juliette?" Emily asked, going to her side again.

"I'm innit."

"Ok..." she sighed. "What's your room number?"

"2810, dumb bitch."

It's always nice to be called a bitch twice in a five-minute time-span. Emily sighed again and tells her, "You're on the wrong floor. You need to go up one more. Let me help you."

"I dunno you."

"It's Emily."

"Slut."

She lets out yet another sigh and closes her eyes for a few seconds, trying to remember why she just spent hours driving here. She can't quite remember anymore. Was it because she cared about this shitty person or because she wanted to tell this person she was shitty? Maybe both. She manages to get her arm under Juliette's and sling one of the blonde's arms across her shoulders. She's so drunk she's pretty useless. The one attempt to shove Emily away took all of the energy she had left.

"Up you go," Emily said and hoisted her to her feet, which don't seem to be working. She ends up more or less dragging her to the elevator. Juliette feels like she weighs about 500 pounds and this entire 500 pounds is all leaning roughly into Emily and squirming once in a while, which doesn't make supporting her any easier. 

"Gonna puke...if take elevator..." Juliette says with a foreboding gulp when the ping sounds. "Take stairs."

"Hell no and you're not going to hurl in the elevator." She drags her in and the doors whoosh closed behind them. She then says, "I stole your husband Juliette. I snatched him right out from under you. I was just waiting for you to go on tour so I could have him. Avery. So sexy. Yum."

"You...slut..." she mumbled. "Why're you here? Nailin' my coffin, whore."

"Exactly. Nail in your coffin. I hate you and think you're an awful human being, Juliette."

"Join the party. You're not special," Juliette attempted to shove her away again, but this attempt is futile. Emily puts both of her arms around her and hugs her close. She isn't coordinated enough to do anything about it more than weakly bang her fists on Emily's sides. She wreaks of booze. She smells like a liquor store exploded and she also smells like she may very well had peed on herself a little. The ping sounds and the doors open. The ride up one floor felt even longer than the ride up twenty-seven floors. 

Emily helped her off of the elevator and says, "Look, you didn't puke."

"Because you distracted me with your...whoredom."

"Oh, my whoredom, yes." She glanced at the plaques posted on the wall pointing toward the rooms. She goes right and urges Juliette along then asks, "Where's your keycard?"

"What keycard?"

Yet another sigh follows. Emily uses one arm to hold Juliette up, who seems determined to collapse thanks to gravity and jelly legs. She uses her other arm to fumble around in each of her pockets. 

"Pervert," Juliette mumbles. "Lesbo. Sexual assaulter."

"That's me," Emily says as she fished the plastic rectangle from a pocket at last. She inserted it into the door, unlocked it, opened it and then said, "Holy shit, what have you been doing in here?"

"Gonna hurl now!" Juliette escapes her, falling into the wall, somehow bouncing back up and then falling into the nearby bathroom where she promptly begins retching.

Emily gave her temples a rub and took a deep breath, once again realizing how little she thought any of this through. Her stomach does a flip when she looks around Juliette's suite. It's absolutely repulsive and coupled with the equally repulsive vomiting noises, Emily feels a little sick herself. How the hell could this happen? How could the people around Juliette let it happen? She never would have let this happen, but Juliette hadn't wanted her around anymore. Emily was and is expendable and she doesn't know why she came here. She could go, she realized. The door was right behind her.


	3. Chapter 3

All of the lights were on in Juliette's hotel room and it's absolutely covered in trash. There were assorted bottles and cans, pill bottles, and an awful stench. Emily stared, taken aback by the state that Juliette has been existing in. She's appalled, but she doesn't leave. How can she leave? Juliette shouldn't be living like this. No one should. She dropped her purse by the door, which is the only remotely clean area in the entire suite. She opens the door again and yanks off the Do Not Disturb sign because the room desperately needs to be disturbed by an entire crew of housekeepers. 

Juliette noisily retched again and this brings her back to reality. She managed to make it to the toilet and Emily is thankful for small victories. She looks around the room for a clean glass or unused cup of some sort. She find a glass that's close to clean and she washes it in the bathroom with Juliette balled up on the bathmat at her feet. She fills it with water then sits down, resting against the tub. "Drink this," she says, giving the water to Juliette. "Slowly or you'll just be sick again."

She sat up, nodded, and followed the instructions. Puking seems to have caused her to regain a small portion of her senses. She flushed the toilet then closed the lid and rested her face on the porcelain. Her make-up is streaked and her hair is a total mess. Everything about her is a mess. She looked at Emily, or at least toward Emily, her eyes don't seem to quite be focusing. She's sort of looking behind her. 

In the bit of peace, Emily has a moment to feel feelings again. All she feels at first is sympathy. She smiles a little and takes the empty glass then gets up to refill it.

"Em, what're you doin' here?" Juliette asks, her voice hoarse and faint. She doesn't lift her head from where it's pillowed on the toilet lid.

"I'm not really sure." This was the truth.

"Are you really here or am I hallucinatin' you?"

"Well," she took her seat again, using the bathtub as a backrest. She hands her the water, "If you are hallucinating me, I'm a very helpful hallucination, I think."

She sits up and takes a small sip of the water, "I said a lot of mean things to you..."

"You did." She doesn't actually expect Juliette to apologize. She doesn't even apologize when she's stupidly drunk and probably has alcohol poisoning. She waited a few seconds, but no apology actually came and she isn't surprised. She added, "You look like hell."

Juliette with her entire arm trembling, managed to sit down the glass on the tile. She then lays her head down on the toilet again and wraps her arms around her stomach. She just looks at Emily with unfocused, watery eyes. Emily thinks she's trying to figure out if she's really here or not and she reached out to place her hand on Juliette's back as an indicator of her tangibility. Almost at the very moment that her palm touched her spine, Juliette burst into tears. 

Part of Emily truly hated herself for caring. She cared because of these horrible moments of humanity that Juliette showed every once in a while. She cared because she also sometimes had fun with Juliette. The stupid, awful girl was human and she'd probably be a fine human if she weren't always so awful. Without saying anything, she moved a bit closer to her and reaches out, helping her to make her way over to her. Emily wraps her arms around her as she had in the elevator, but this time there's no fighting back. Instead, Juliette curled up next to her and buried her face into her shoulder where she continued to sob convulsively.

Emily feels her tears soaking through her shirt and she strokes the back of her head. She apologized, "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner."

"No..." Juliette said, talking into her between sobs. "It's my fault. Everything's always...my fault. Everyone would be better off if I were just...dead."

"That's not true," she objected, but she isn't sure how true it actually is or isn't. She tries to make a joke, "Who would pay me?"

Juliette ignored her poor attempt at humor, "I can't...even...kill myself right."

"What're you talking about?" Emily pushed her up by her shoulders to see her face. She put her hands on either of Juliette's damp cheeks asked again in all seriousness, "What are you talking about, Juliette?"

Juliette just shook her head, "I don't know. I...don't remember. I was...I don't know how I got here."

"I found you in the hall and I got you here," Emily told her, wiping away some of her tears with her thumbs.

"But I don't know how I got...there...I was...I was..." she breaks down and her words became incoherent through her crying again. Emily can't make sense of any of it, but it sounds like she says that something really bad happened.

Then Emily lets her fall back into her and she hugs her tightly. Juliette's arms tangle around her and she clings to her shirt. Emily just lets her stay like this until her heaving cries die down. She absently runs her fingers through Juliette's tangled hair and suggests, "Hey, why don't you get some sleep and we'll figure things out in the morning, ok?"

"Why are you here?" she demanded, speaking forcefully into Emily's boobs and jerking on her shirt, needing an answer more satisfactory to her drunk brain. 

"Because I wanted to tell you to kiss my ass and let you know I was still getting paychecks, and...and tell you that I..." her voice trailed off. Expressing any sort of feelings for Juliette toward Juliette never worked out for anyone.

The blonde craned her neck up to attempt to look her in the face, "What?"

She shrugged and spoke quickly, rattling off the first things that come to her mind that don't actually relate to emotions, "Can you get up and make it to bed? Is the bed even clean? Should I call down for some clean blankets or something?"

Juliette squinted, her eyes are dilated and bloodshot, but she's actually looking at her now. "Emily...why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" She isn't aware she's looking at her in any particular way. She tried to make a neutral face, but she just feels stupid and isn't sure if it's working.

"You just...you have a look..." Juliette finally released her grip on her and begins almost frantically wiping her eyes like she's ashamed. Emily has seen her cry before, she's one of the few people that has. Crying isn't even the most embarrassing thing she's done since Emily found her tonight.

"You're drunk. Now let's get you into bed to sleep this shit off, ok?" Juliette nods. "You good?" She asked for confirmation and Juliette nods again. "Alright," Emily said and gets to her feet then ventured back out into the disaster area. The bed is in shambles. There are clothes strewn across it, along with some empty bottles. She groups up the clothes and starts doing some cleaning in the vicinity of the bed. She wondered how Juliette managed to drink so much and still be alive at all. 

"Emily, I know I'm drunk...I'm not even sure if I'll remember any of this...but..." Juliette says from the bathroom. "You had this look like...like...I don't know, like you...want me."

"Excuse me?" Emily stopped and a vodka bottle slips out of her hand, clunking onto the floor.

Juliette stumbled out of the bathroom and used the wall for support to make it to the bed. She fell face-first onto the comforter. She'd procured some pajamas from somewhere in the bathroom. Emily watched as she crawls up toward the pillows and sprawled out in the middle on her stomach. She seemed to have forgotten about the assertions she made moments before and Emily carries on cleaning up. 

"Em...don't go."

"I'm not going anywhere. I'm cleaning."

"Stay."

"I am. I'm cleaning. Oh, and I took down your door sign so that someone comes in here and changes your disgusting towels and sheets and takes out all of this trash." She looks at the table, "Did you try to do coke here? And what are all these pills? I seriously can't leave you unattended, can I?"

"Stop cleaning. Come here." She made one firm slap on the bed next to her and her arm remains where it lands. 

Emily glanced back over her shoulder. Juliette's eyes are closed and she's not sure if she's even awake. 

"Please..." Juliette mumbled, then rolled over onto her side, away from Emily.

Emily sighs for what felts like the millionth time. She picked up a few more things and tossed them into the trash as quietly as she could. She wasn't really planning on staying. Or was she? She's so tired and she certainly can't drive back to Nashville at the moment. She'd also like to speak with Juliette with her sober or at least not quite this shitfaced. She cleaned some garbage off of the little couch and sat down to take off her boots. She assumed Juliette had officially fallen asleep because she'd been silent for several minutes and she figured she can catch a few hours of sleep on the couch then talk to her in the morning if her hangover isn't too intense. She'd drunk enough, Emily figures, that she might very well still be drunk when she wakes up.

"Good God, Juliette..." she said, still looking around the room. She felt like she should put her shoes back on to cross the room to turn out the light because the floor is so filthy. 

"Emily, please," Juliette said out of nowhere. "Will you...just...just come here? Get in bed with me. I can't sleep by myself...not again...not tonight."

Emily walked over and turned out the overhead light. The big, heavy curtains are drawn over the windows that would normally provide a panoramic view of the Atlanta cityscape. The bathroom light was still on though and this prevented the room from being plunged into pitch blackness. Emily laid down on her back behind Juliette. She looked up at the ceiling, thinking about Avery. She wasn't thinking about Avery in any sort of dirty way, but more in an "Oh, God. If Avery finds out he's going to hate me forever" sort of way. Emily had been silently in love with Juliette for years. She never once mentioned it to anyone, or even considered mentioning it to anyone. She just existed on the outskirts of Juliette's world, fetching her coffee, keeping her schedule, watching her manipulate and ruin everyone around her, then watched her fall apart. Emily was there for everything - all of the good and bad, and the ups and downs. There were an awful lot of ups and downs too. Then one day, Juliette left without her. Then Juliette accused her of stealing Avery. It was all so ridiculous and now, here she is, lying in bed with a piss-drunk, emotionally unstable Juliette that may or may not have tried to kill herself earlier. This isn't what she wanted. This was never what she wanted. She just wanted Juliette to be happy and ok, and she was content to merely exist on the outskirts. 

"You want me," Juliette practically told her. "It's ok. A lot of people do. Everyone wants to fuck me."

"Juliette, just go to sleep."

"No. I want you to admit it. Admit it. Tell me you want me," she rolls over angrily and grabbed for Emily's hands. She placed one on her breast and shoves the other between her legs. 

Emily jerked away and got completely out of the bed, "Stop."

"I saw how you were looking at me. Come on. Fuck me. I signed the divorce papers. You already screwed my husband."

Emily felt a knot unexpectedly forming in her throat. She's just tired, she thought. She shook her head and says, "Please, just go to sleep. We'll talk in the morning."

"If I fire you, will you still be here when I wake up or are you just like everyone else in my shitty life?"

"I'll be here."

"Well, you're fired. You're the worst personal assistant, ever. You've been AWOL for weeks."

"Yeah," she said and returned to the couch. "Goodnight, Juliette." Juliette said nothing else and Emily curled up on the tiny, hard cushions, using one of the armrests as a pillow. Part of her wished she hadn't come at all and she quickly wiped away a tear that rolled down her cheek. She doesn't know why she's so quick to hide it, it isn't like Juliette would notice. She doesn't know how she's managed to put up with her at all, much less how she fell in love with her. Maybe she's just a masochist or one of those people that always fall in love with broken people or the people they can't have. Another part of her is glad she came, not because of anything that happened, but because someone needed to help Juliette and didn't look like anyone else was going to. Emily would and she would do it expecting nothing in return. She wouldn't even be getting paychecks anymore apparently.

Despite feeling more tired than she'd felt in years, Emily remained awake for a long time. She laid still with her head on the arm rest and legs curled up to her chest.

"Emily..." Juliette whispered about an hour later. Emily doesn't respond and Juliette says it a little louder, "Emily?" She still doesn't respond. She just wants her to go to sleep and she wants to go to sleep. She'd deal with all of this in the light of day. Then Juliette said, "Emily, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm fucking sorry for everything." It's followed by a muffled sniffle.

Silent tears begin to stream down Emily's face and she can't do anything about them. If she moves, she's afraid Juliette will know she's awake and she can't have that. She has to keep herself together. She has to keep herself together for everyone. For Avery. For Cadence. And most of all for Juliette. She can break down at some other time on some other day. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is basically a re-imagining of S4E7 with Emily added, I guess.

"Emily? That you? What the hell are you doin' in my room?" Juliette's voice is rough and scratchy, but loud and surprised. 

Emily sat up and winced. Every part of her body hurt. She doesn't understand how such an expensive hotel can have such an uncomfortable couch in a room. She rubbed her neck. She figured that last night would be lost in a great black fog for Juliette. "Good morning, sunshine."

"What're you doin' here?" Juliette is barely sitting up in the bed. The sheets are pooled around her and she's swaying a bit, looking completely baffled. She doesn't seem mad, but she does look like she's about to be sick.

She doesn't answer. Instead she asks, "Hey, you ok?"

"No. God. Now tell me what you're doin' here or get the hell out." She slid off of the edge of the bed, seeming almost to melt on to the floor. 

Emily got up just in time to catch her as she leans dramatically to one side. She tries to push her away, but gives up quickly. "I found you in the hallway one floor down and brought you up here last night."

"Hm...I almost remember that. Pretty sure I called you some names."

"Yeah. Then you fired me."

She grunted and said, "Get me to the bathroom before I throw up all over you then pour me a drink. I'm sure there's a bottle around here with something in it. Just mix 'em all together...hair of the dog, you know?"

"Yeah," she said, but has no intention of doing the latter. When they reach the bathroom door, Juliette propels herself in using the doorframe then slammed the door in Emily's face. Emily heard a groan from inside and continued trying to pick up all of the refuse around the rest of the room. She's pretty sure every bottle is empty. She checks the mini-fridge and finds a few airplane bottles of vodka. She slips them into her own purse quietly. She heard more of the familiar retching, but now it's followed by annoyed groans instead of weeping. The light around the suite is dim, but Emily is even more repulsed somehow. She scrambled around the room picking up unidentified pills for every ledge and flat surface. She dropped them into the trash and wiped her palms on her pants. She tries to determine the proper course of action as she stares at a mystery prescription bottle before chucking it into the garbage as well.

She started to fold some of Juliette's clothes when she emerged from the bathroom. She crossed her arms, leaned against the wall and asked, "Where that drink?"

"You fired me."

"Get me a drink," she says between her teeth with an intense glower. "Get me a drink as my friend if that's the dumbass reason you think you're here. I just checked my phone. I didn't call you, didn't text you, nothing. So I don't know why you're here."

"If I hadn't shown up, you'd be a floor down in the hallway still."

"I woulda made it here just fine without you. If i needed you, you'd be on tour with me. Now get off your high horse and find me a drink."

"You fired me," she reminded her again. 

"What are you doing anyway? Are you throwing away my things? What gives you the right-"

"Shut up, Juliette. Just shut up." She finds a mysterious solitary bottle of water under the couch and she tossed it onto the bed. "Drink that and sit down."

"Don't tell me what to do. You sound just like..." Her voice trailed off and she seems to drift off somewhere else. She goes pale again then backs back into the bathroom.

Emily picked up the water bottle and twisted off the cap. She finds Juliette hunched over the toilet and sits down by the bathtub like she did the night before. After a moment, Juliette reaches up and flushes the toilet. Emily rubbed her back and hands her the water, which she takes, reluctantly. Emily again feels only sympathy. She wants to be mad, but she isn't. If anything, she's very, very sad.

"I just got some intense deja vu," Juliette nodded and pillowed her head on her arms across the toilet basin.

"Yeah, this pretty much happened last night."

Juliette gulped and averted her eyes, "If I fired you then why didn't you just leave?"

"You said it a minute ago, I'm your friend."

She scoffed. "Why?"

"Underneath all of your bullshit, I'm pretty sure you're a decent person."

"That makes one of us..." she sighed.

Emily brushed Juliette's hair away from her damp forehead and said, "You're probably going to start screaming at me when I say this, but...let me help you."

"You can't help me," she snapped, but doesn't yell.

"I can. Nevermind the tour. Come back to Nashville with me, and we'll find you, you know, a rehab-"

"I don't need rehab, you self-righteous bitch."

Emily rolled her eyes and rubbed the blonde's shoulders. "All of the coolest celebrities go to rehab."

"Fuck your jokes, Emily," she shook her hand off of her. 

She sighed. She's so tired of sighing. "What do you remember from last night? You mentioned something about trying to kill yourself then not knowing how you got to the hallway."

"Why the hell would I try to kill myself?"

"I don't know."

"Why don't you just leave?"

"No," Emily answered flatly.

"God, when did you grow such a big pair of balls? It's annoying." She stared down into the toilet bowl and then asks, "What do you want?"

"What do I...what? I'm your friend. I want you to be ok."

"You must want something. You know what I want? You to call room service and get me a bottle of wine if you're my friend."

Making no effort to get up, Emily leaned back and rested her elbows on the edge of the tub. "Because I'm your friend I'm going to not do that."

Then came a firm knock on the door. 

"Get that," Juliette mumbled into the the toilet. 

Emily found this request to be reasonable. When she stood, she looked and saw more assorted pill bottles on the bathroom counter. She looked back and saw Juliette's head firmly planted in the toilet, so she quietly grabbed the bottles that aren't empty. She's careful not to shake them as the door is knocked on again. She dropped the bottles into her purse and hopes nothing occurs in which her purse needs to be searched because it's starting to look awfully suspicious. She peeped through the hole and her fear becomes a bit more of reality as she sees two uniformed police officers outside. 

"Can I help you?" she asked, opening the door only enough to poke her face out.

"We're looking for Ms. Juliette Barnes."

"I'm, um, her assistant..." As if on cue, Juliette began to noisily vomit, sounding like some sort of angry dinosaur. Emily winced. "She's feeling under the weather, can you come back...or..."

"Who is it? What do they want?" Juliette's voice reverberated as she shouted into the porcelain throne. A second later, she's standing behind Emily, wiping her mouth with a washcloth, looking at the cops. "I've got a plane to catch, what is it? If you need something you can go talk to my manager."

"Your manager is dead, Ms. Barnes."

"Jeff? Jeff Fordham?"

"Yes, it appears that he jumped off of the roof and we were wondering if you spoke to him last night."

Well, that was one question answered. Juliette shook her head and sounded incredibly annoyed that a man was dead, "I saw him at the party with his little girlfriend, but we didn't talk."

"Alright, well-"

She then cut off the officer and pushed past Emily. "Like I said, I have a plane to catch. A dead manager doesn't change that. Thanks." Then she closed the door and looked at Emily, "What's that stupid face for?"

Emily was again unaware she was making any particular face. She supposed at the moment that it was a surprised face, shocked, stunned, something. Jeff was one of the biggest assholes that Emily ever met. He didn't strike her as the type to off himself. Juliette's absolute nonchalance over it was a bit disconcerting as well. It crossed her mind that perhaps Juliette murdered the man. She wouldn't blame her, per se, but still. She asked, "Did you see Jeff last night?"

"Yes, I saw him at Luke's stupid party. Like I said. Do you think I just lied to cops?"

"No...I think maybe you don't remember," Emily confessed. "It seems like a lot of last night is a bit blurry for you, so maybe-"

"Take your dumbass hero complex and go. I'm fine now."

"You're not fine," she insisted. "You're going back to Nashville, so just ride with me. Forget the plane. I'm parked a few blocks up and I'm sure I can get you out of here quietly. No one knows who I am and-"

"Get out before I call security."

"Juliette..."

"Get out!" she screamed, stomping into the bathroom and picking up the glass from the night before. She hurled it viciously toward Emily. She ducked and it shatters on the wall behind her.

"Calm down," Emily put up her hands and move slowly toward the girl that had clearly gone completely insane. She doesn't know what she plans to do, which seems to be pretty typical for her lately. "Last night you begged me to stay. You made me promise to be here when you woke up, you-"

"I was drunk, that's what I was. You-" The room phone rang loudly and interrupted her. She completely lost her train of thought and stammered, "You...you..."

"Juliette," Emily talked over the ringing, "I'm here because I was worried. Avery is worried. Cadence needs you-"

"Don't you dare mention her name to me after you swooped in after me to take my leftovers. Even if I didn't want them it doesn't mean I want you to have them."

Emily was standing just a few feet from Juliette. She sees that her fists are tightly clinched. She can't just leave her. She may have killed Jeff Fordham and she did just throw a very heavy glass at her head, but she can't just leave her...not like this. A sane person would go. A sane person wouldn't have stayed this long. A sane person wouldn't have driven hours in the middle of the night to see someone that didn't want to see them. Emily thinks for a moment that she has no right to judge Juliette for being completely insane, when she obviously is also not the epitome is sanity herself. She's taller than Juliette. Juliette also has an epic hangover, so she's pretty sure she can defend herself should things take a turn even further south.

Juliette isn't the most reasonable person even on good days. This isn't a good day either. Emily spoke to her again, slowly and calmly, "Look at me." She paused, Juliette does as she says. She's breathing heavily, angrily, fist still clinched tightly. "Avery and I are just friends. It's all we've ever been. I promise. I've just been helping him with Cadence. Things haven't been easy for them, ok?"

"You swear?"

"I swear, Juliette. I'd never do that to you."

"To me?" Her fists slightly unclinch. "Why?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that I'm your friend, you idiot? I've stuck with you for years when you couldn't keep a personal agent for more than a few months. I let you scream at me and say awful things to me. I sneak into your stupid hotel in the middle of the night after driving four hours to make sure you're ok. You fire me and I stay. I'm your friend."

"Sounds a little like you're more than a friend..." she mumbled and the tension fades away. Her eyes drop and she rubbed her face. "God, Emily."

"Please, let me help you."

"You're a glutton for punishment, aren't you?"

"Maybe, but mostly I think you're not a monster. You're not this either. You're not this train wreck."

"What if I am though? You have no idea what I've done."

"I have a good enough idea, I think. It's ok." Emily took another step closer, "Call Luke or whatever and bail on the plane. Quit the rest of this tour. Say it's because of Jeff."

"Jeff..." she said a bit dreamily, absently. It was like she was trying to remember something. Shoving him off the roof maybe. 

There's another knock on the door and Emily realized the phone had stopped ringing. 

"Juliette, open this damn door!" It was Luke Wheeler and he's pounding nonstop. Juliette groaned and clutched her head.

"I've got it," Emily said, "Just sit down. Drink the water, please."

When she opened the door, Luke's brow furrows, "Emily? What are you doin' here?"

"That's the question of the hour," she said with a faint smile. He shoved briskly past her, followed by a woman she doesn't recognize. "Watch the glass," she tells them. "There was, um, an accident."

"Someone called down and said there was a fight in here and that...coupled with Jeff," he mumbled and doesn't finish his sentence.

"Hi, I'm Gabriella. I'm Luke's PR manager," she extended her hand to Emily as Luke plowed into the bathroom.

Emily shook it awkwardly, "I'm Emily. Juliette's, uh, personal assistant-err...friend, I guess."

"Juliette doesn't have friends."

Emily cocked her head to the side and pulls her hand away from the woman's icy grip. 

"Someone saw you on the roof with Jeff!" Luke shouted and Emily started to come to her defense, but Gabriella intercepted her.

"Did the police come by? What did she tell them?" the woman questioned her quickly.

"She said she saw Jeff at the party last night and that was it."

"How long have you been here?"

"I don't know...since about 3am? 4 maybe?" She doesn't like the third-degree she's getting from this woman she doesn't know. She also doesn't care for Luke screaming at Juliette in the bathroom.

Without warning, Juliette snapped again and began screaming right back at him, "Get out! All of you get the fuck out of my room!"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Luke said, backing out of the bathroom.

Gabriella grabbed Emily by the arm and started ushering her out along with her and Luke.

"No, wait. Juliette," she said, dumbfounded. "My purse." She points stupidly at her bag on the floor by the door.

Luke snatches it up and then the three of them are in the hallway with Juliette's door closed and locked behind them. Emily's bag rattles with the pill bottles inside and Luke peers down into the opening, "What the hell are you doing, Emily? Are you doing some sort of booze and pill drop?"

"No. No," she protested quickly. "I'm taking them. Well, not me. I'm not taking them. I'm taking them...away...from her." She snatched her purse from Luke and goes back to the door. She tried the handle knowing it was locked. "Juliette, let me back in."

"I think it's time for you to go, young lady," Gabriella grabbed her by the elbow and she jerked away, ignoring her.

She knocked on the door, "Juliette, come on. Open the door." Gabriella grabbed for her again and she turned to Luke, looking at him for some sort of assistance, "You know me, Luke."

"We can't have you visiting Juliette with a bag full of prescription medication right now. Not with everything else going on," the woman said.

Emily jams her hand down into her bag, grabbing the bottles and she shoves them into Luke's chest. "Then you take them and leave me the hell alone. What's wrong with you people? You're obsessed with your stupid image and you're letting her fall apart. Jesus Christ."

"I fired you!" Juliette bellowed through the door.

"You can't fire me from being your friend."

"Go away or I'll call security."

"You heard her," Gabriella said, looking her up and down. Emily supposed she might look a little worse for wear. She only got a few hours of sleep on the most uncomfortable couch in the history of couches. She surely doesn't look like any manner of drug runner, regardless. 

Emily looked down at her socks and wiggled her toes, "My shoes are still in there."


	5. Chapter 5

Emily's shoes flew wildly from the room, one of them hitting her in the stomach. The door closed again quickly. Luke and his strange, mean woman watched her as she put them on, hovering over her like vultures. Luke still holds the pill bottles. They then accompany her down the elevator and out. There are still news crews everywhere. It looked much the same outside of the hotel as it had the night before only the sun was up. She walked to her car, defeated. 

She drove back to Nashville with the radio blaring in order to keep herself awake. She wanted to cry, but she doesn't. She still had the tiny bottles of vodka. Vodka isn't her favorite. She feels like she should chalk this up to another tiny victory. Not that she got free airplane bottles of vodka, but that she got them away from Juliette. She sighs, realizing Juliette probably ordered room service and that she'd probably also be getting drunk again on the stupid plane with Luke, who was clearly a self-absorbed ass. How could he be so concerned about his label and his image and just let Juliette get that bad? Is it really easier to cover it up than to fix it? She also wondered if Juliette did kill Jeff. Her mood swings are out of control. She tried to hit her with a glass and succeeded at hitting her with a shoe and she wasn't even a bottom-dwelling scum like Jeff, who may very well have done something to deserve his fate.

"Good god, Emily, pull yourself together," she said to herself aloud and forcefully. She's repulsed by her own thoughts. She was delirious from being so damn tired and so damn stupid. What a dumb thing she did. 

She goes to Avery's, or Gunnar and Will's, where Avery is staying - whatever. Semantics. They all live there. Three men and baby. She can't lie to Avery. She's a God damn good person and a damn good friend. She's a good friend to a fault and she wants to punch herself in the face the whole way up the steps. She has a key and can let herself in.

"Avery?" she called out. "Anyone home?" She stupidly didn't bother to look to see whose cars were there. The house was mostly quiet. She heard the TV in the living room and headed in that direction.

"Oh, hey, Emily," Will turned around in a chair and looked at her. "Avery and Cadence went out. Apartment hunting or something."

"You kicking them out?"

"No, I wouldn't kick a baby to the curb," Will said sadly. He seemed sad. He seemed sad a lot. "Something wrong? You look a little...rough?"

"I did a dumb thing," she said and then tells him about it as she sinks into the couch. 

"Emily," he says when she'd finished the idiotic tale. "You are completely nuts. I didn't peg you for a crazy woman. There's beer in the fridge if you want one."

He was day-drinking. She declined and says, "I have tiny vodka. Have you talked to Layla?"

"Yeah. She's coming over after the show tonight."

"You're a good friend."

"That's real nice coming from the person that is obviously the best friend anyone could want in the world." He slouched down in the chair and looked toward the TV, "If I didn't know better I'd think you were in love with that mess of a girl." When Emily said nothing in response to protest, he turned again to look at her, taking a long drink from his beer as he does. His eyes narrowed when they reached her. "You're not in love with Juliette, are you?"

"No, I..." she choked on her own words, cleared her throat and said. "Maybe." His eyes widened. "Don't say anything to Avery," she tacked on. "Nothing'll ever happen, I just-"

"Your story makes a lot more sense and just turned into one of the saddest damn things I've heard in while...mind you, a lot of sad shit has happened lately."

"No, Will. It's fine. Everything is fine."

He doesn't seem to believe her, but he turned around, took another drink of his beer and said, "I don't know what you and Avery can see in her. She's disaster after disaster, waiting to happen." He paused momentarily, "You know, maybe you shouldn't even tell Avery any of this."

"I can't do that."

"I can probably get Layla to get you into the show tonight."

"And then what?"

"I don't know. What were you planning if Luke and his PR lady hadn't bounced you out?"

"I don't know, I told you. It was just a series of not planning anything. I guess I was going to tie her up with something, put a bag over her head, and then dump her onto the steps of the closest fancy rehab facility."

"Well, that sounds like a plan to me." He turned around to look at her again and shook his beer bottle at her, "I think they're supposed to fly out again in the morning. I doubt Juliette's going to go to her house. I bet she'll just be on the tour bus after the show. I can make some calls to find rehab centers."

"Will...why are you helping me?"

"Who wouldn't help you? You're the nicest person I've ever met, that's for sure." He sat his beer down on the side-table with a clink then got up, "Sit tight and let me make a few calls."

"I don't want to impose on Layla," she tried to protest. "Or you. I didn't mean to drag you into this!" But he'd disappeared up the stairs and doesn't respond. She sunk deeper into the couch and thought about maybe having one of the tiny bottles of vodka. She felt sick to her stomach when she thought seriously about it and when she realized that she just confessed her deepest, darkest secret to another human being. Her only secret really. She wasn't a complex woman by any means. She was honest. She said what she meant and meant what she said. She didn't obfuscate or drop hints. But this one thing...this one little thing...big thing...thing...she had been keeping it to herself for years. She thought it would be a relief sometimes if she told someone, but it really wasn't. She just felt sick.

Will drops a sheet of paper torn from a yellow notepad with some names of places, addresses, and numbers jotted down. She observed, "That was fast."

"I know people," he shrugged and took his seat. "Layla said she'll put your name on the list at the door and leave you a pass."

"Her boyfriend just died..."

"Gunnar thinks you're into him, by the way, which obviously you are not," he says out of the blue with a smirk.

She ignored the comment and attempts to change the subject as she looked over the paper he gave her. She asked, "Where's Kevin? Why are you drinking in the middle of the day?"

"We broke up."

"Oh, God, I'm sorry. Here I am talking to you about nothing-"

"It's not nothing. Caring about someone is never nothing."

"I liked Kevin..." she said sheepishly.

"Me too," he turned back to the television and they sat in silence. 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant for this to be 2-3 chapters. I clearly underestimated how verbose I am.

Emily stalked the halls backstage for a while, dodging assorted backstage people as they hustled around to their destinations. She found the door with Juliette's name on it and some unknown blonde girl standing outside knocking.

"Who are you?" the girl asked her, looking her up and down, suspiciously.

"Emily. Who are you?" Emily asked her with equal suspicion.

"I'm her entourage," said the girl.

That was not an answer, but Emily didn't press it. She knocked on the door. "Juliette, it's Emily. Let me in, please."

"You're like having herpes. I can't get rid of you, can I?" Juliette said from inside.

The entourage girl looks displeased and said, "Juliette, I brought you some presents."

"I fired both of you. Go away."

Emily glimpsed down into the large bag that the girl had over her shoulder and saw a distinct bottle shape as well as a bag from a pharmacy. She turned to her and pushed her away from the door, "You little shit."

"You don't know me. You can't talk to me like that."

Emily gave her another push, knocking her back. She stumbled and came to a stop several fee from Juliette's door. She hissed, "I know you're a piece of shit if you're bringing this..." She yanked the girl's bag away, turned it upside down and began dumping its contents onto the floor. The big bottle of vodka somehow doesn't shatter and just rolls into the middle of the hallway, "Bringing this...this garbage to someone that clearly has a problem."

"You crazy bitch," she reached for her bag and then started to try to pick up all of her belongings that tumbled out of it.

"God, I am so tired of people calling me a bitch!" Emily yelled and then threw the bag at her. Some people stopped to look at the commotion in the hall, but everyone has somewhere to be, somewhere to go. No one paused for more than a second. 

"I'm Juliette's friend and I've never heard her mention anyone named Emily," the girl growled and clutched her things tightly to her chest. 

"I don't fucking care!" Emily enunciated every word. "You are a piece of shit and I am going to punch you in the face if you're not out of my sight in ten seconds." The girl stared at her, but made no attempt to move. She starts counting down, "Ten...nine..."

"For fuck's sake, get in here, Emily," Juliette said from behind her and yanked her into her dressing room. She closed the door quickly and locked it then leaned against it with a deep breath. She slid down and sat at the base with her head in her hands. "Have you lost your mind?"

How and why was Juliette being the voice of reason at the second? Emily just stood there over her. She sid, "You yell at people and hit them with things all the time."

"But I'm Juliette Barnes and I have people to clean up after me. Had..." she seems to say to remind herself. "It was Jeff that did most of the cleaning. You're just a regular person and you'll go to jail, you idiot." Someone knocked lightly and she screamed at the top of her lungs, "Go away!"

"It's Luke and you need to be on stage with me in five. You better have memorized the speech and you had best be sober."

She sighed, wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face where Emily can't see it. Emily sat down next to her and mimics her position, except doesn't tuck her face away. "Do what you need to do and I'll be here when you get back."

Juliette looks up, "Really?"

"Herpes, remember?"

She laughed weakly and said, "You're really the only person I've never been able to get rid of, aren't you?"

"That other girl outside seemed to want back in your good graces too."

"Piece of shit was accurate. You probably scared her away. I don't think I've ever heard you actually yell before. It scared me a little."

Here was Juliette acting like a human again. Emily stood and offered her a hand to help her up, "We can talk when you're done with your show." She said again, "I'll be here." The blonde took her hand and allowed herself to be assisted. Emily then caught a few stray locks of hair and puts them into place with a halfhearted smile. "What's this about memorizing a speech?"

"Luke's stupid PR cunt wrote a speech because they didn't think I could say anything nice about Jeff. They're probably right, I sort of hated him." She looked at her, her expression hard to read. Then she just said, "Emily."

Emily feared she was making some sort of telling face again and she said, "You're going to be late."

"I don't care," she mumbled and all at once she falls into Emily and hugs her. Emily's arms are clamped to her sides and she's caught completely off guard so she just stands there. "You're my only friend, aren't you?"

This is probably true, but Emily says, "No. I'm sure you have at least one other friend...somewhere."

"You're sort of an asshole. Has anyone ever told you that?"

"Actually, no. People seem to think I'm the nicest person ever."

"That too," Juliette still hugged her.

"Hey, don't be late. I think I'm on Luke's shit list after this morning. If he throws me me out I won't be here when you get back."

"Fine," she let her go. "You look like you want to kiss me. I don't recommend it. I've been sick as a dog all damn day. I also have no idea why you have that dumb look on your face seeing as I treat you like garbage, but whatever."

"No, I..." she stopped and closed her mouth tightly.

"Look, I know what people look like when they want to kiss me, Em. I'll be back in an hour and a half or so. I'll see you if you haven't bailed."

"I'll be here," she said like a broken record as Juliette rushed out of the door.

Juliette came back about five minutes later and not ninety. Emily dozed in a chair and is jarred to consciousness by Juliette saying, "Help me."

"What is it?" She was on her feet and wide awake in less than a second. She saw Juliette standing behind her, looking like she was on the verge of tears, but fighting them with whatever power she had left. In the next second, Emily's arms are around her. "Why aren't you performing? What's going on?"

"Something bad happened..." she whispered in her ear and her fingers tangle in the fabric of Emily's shirt like they had the night before. "Something really bad, and I..." she gasped, "Help."

"Tell me," Emily insisted. It's about Jeff. She knew it. Juliette murdered Jeff. She isn't sure what she'll do with the information when Juliette actually confesses. They can go Thelma and Louise and travel the country. No, the sensible voice of Emily says, don't be stupid.

Juliette pulled away slightly and looked up at her, "You'll hate me. You'll leave."

"I won't," she said and she knows it's true. Sadly, it's true. She put her hands on either side of the other girl's face and says, "I promise, I won't. I'll help."

"I remember everything that happened last night. You were so nice to me. You're always so nice to me and I'm so sorry..."

"That's fine. It doesn't matter," she says to her, still cupping her face in her hands. 

"It does matter. It all matters...everything matters..." she began to cry and Emily pulls her close again, rubbing her back as she says, "I was trying to kill myself. I was. I went to the roof to jump...Jeff saved me and he fell...and I was so drunk...I just went back to my room...tried to...made it to the hallway on the wrong floor...and I...I remembered," she blubbers pathetically. "I remembered everything and I couldn't remember the stupid speech, but I...I couldn't tell the truth...I just walked off the stage...and I..." she can't go on anymore. She sinks down to the floor and takes Emily with her. 

"I can help. I'll get you help," Emily says to her. With Juliette practically in her lap, she finds her phone and pulls up the first number she programmed in that Will gave her. Luke came barging in just as the phone begins to ring because Juliette neglected to lock the door behind her.

"What the hell is going on?" he said. He started out angry, but his voice falls flat when he sees the two girls sitting on the floor.

Emily glared at him and spoke into the phone, "Hi, um, I'm not sure how to go about this, but I'm calling on behalf of Juliette Barnes..."

Luke closed his mouth and the door. He stood and listened as Emily made arrangements and continued to glare at him. Emily isn't even sure which facility she called, but they have space and they'll keep it quiet. Emily says Juliette will be there tonight. She thanked the woman on the other end of the line and then says to Luke, "Get out."

"Emily," he looks like he has more to say, but then he leaves. 

Juliette's tears have soaked her shirt again. She determined which treatment center she called and realized the place is in Arkansas and that they have a hell of a drive. Juliette needed to pack a bag, but they have time, she decided. They just sit. Emily wanted to cry too, but she doesn't. She reminds herself that she has to be the one to keep it together. She can fall apart later. At home. Alone. She lets Juliette sob for what feels like hours and wonders how she even has any tears left. She muttered assorted apologies several times, mentions Avery and Cadence. Emily is patient. She figured that once they get her away from the arena they can swing by her house and pack her a bag, grab a pillow, whatever. She'll stop for coffee on the way and everything will be fine. She'll save the day. No one will now and Juliette may not appreciate it tomorrow, but Emily will save the day.

Eventually Juliette's weeping subsided, but she doesn't let Emily go. Her face is nestled into her neck. Emily thinks she may have fallen asleep. Crying for that long is surely pretty exhausting. She ran her fingers through her hair and thinks about whispering in her ear that she's so very stupidly in love with her. She doesn't. Instead she says, "If you're ready to go, you can put on my jacket and scarf and I'll get you out of here without anyone noticing."

"Why are you doing this?" Juliette wasn't asleep, just quiet.

"I'm your friend and I wish you'd stop making me repeat myself."

"How though?" She loosened her grip, but still sits close to Emily on the floor.

"That's something I can't answer. Now get yourself into some regular clothes and out of this dress, ok?" Emily was already peeling away her jacket and scarf that she hadn't even bothered to take off before. 

"Unzip me," Juliette said, turning her back to her and reaching for the zipper herself, but failing to grab it. Emily does so and then turns away as she starts to change. "Emily," she said another moment later.

"Hm?" she responded, but doesn't turn. She fiddled with her scarf in her hands. 

"I have a sweatshirt. I can just use your scarf to cover my face. You can wear your jacket. I don't want you to be cold."

How thoughtful. She thought she was going to say something else. There were any number of things she could say, that she could observe or imply. Emily responded, "Ok."

They made it out to Emily's car without a hitch. They just looked like two girls leaving the concert early, probably because Juliette Barnes totally crapped out. Juliette had been remarkably quiet and Emily found herself absently praying that she doesn't change her mind about this whole thing and totally lose her shit at any given second. She doesn't, but she remained silent. She packed a single bag and grabbed a pillow then returned to Juliette's car where she sat quietly in the passenger seat.

"I need to get some coffee. You need anything?" Emily asked her before they officially hit the road out of Nashville. 

"My stomach is still pretty upset," she said, her voice nearly a whisper as she looked out of the window.

"Ginger ale and crackers for you then."

"Thank you," she said softly as they pulled into the convenience store.

"Thank me by not making a run for it when I go inside."

"I'm not going anywhere," Juliette said and tries to laugh.

"Seriously. Don't get out of the car."

Emily checked on Juliette every twenty seconds or so while she was inside. Juliette doesn't get out of the car. She does shift around and get her pillow to prop against the door and rest her head on. She dropped the plastic bag with a bottle of ginger ale and some plain crackers onto her lap.

"Em?" Juliette said with a hint of apprehension.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"No big deal," she said. "Just ginger ale and crackers."

"No...for everything."

"Oh..." she paused not sure what to make of the sentiment. "You're welcome."

The radio played quietly and when one of Juliette's songs came on, she was quick to turn it off. Emily would have turned it off herself, but she was all caught up in her own thoughts and her coffee. Juliette returned to how she was, slumped against the door. After finishing her coffee, Emily deposited the cup into the center console and reached across with her now free hand. She took Juliette's left hand in hers and laces their fingers. Juliette lets her, but still says nothing. They ride in silence like this for an hour. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: sad  
> D:

As she pulled into a rest stop off of the interstate, Emily thought Juliette had fallen asleep. Her grip on her hand had gone limp some time before. She hoped this rest stop had one of those coffee machines that plops out a cup then fills it with an awfully flavored coffee that's too hot to drink for forty-five minutes after dispensing. When she began to gently remove her hand from Juliette's grasp, the young woman stirred and squeezed her fingers tightly.

"We there?" she mumbled, sleepily.

"No. I need more caffeine and the ladies' room."

"Oh."

Taking her hand away she said, "If you make a run for it here, the nearest exit to civilization is about six miles back."

"I'm not running. I do have to pee though." She moved her pillow to the dash and stretched then unfastened her seatbelt. "I'll buy your coffee, Em."

"You don't have to."

"I'm rich. Let me." She looked toward the little building housing the bathrooms and vending. "Does this place have one of those coffee machines?"

"I sure hope so," Emily answered and then looked around for other cars, which may contain other travelers that may recognize Juliette Barnes. "All clear."

They got out of the car into the chilly night air. Emily can't help but continue to brace herself for Juliette to have a meltdown again at any moment. She'd been strangely level-headed for far too long. She tried to give her some credit, sort of, by telling herself that Juliette has been asleep for a lot of the drive. You can't have a mood swing when you're asleep. Or maybe the harsh reality really did hit her that hard. Whatever. Doesn't matter. Emily was ready if she goes off the rails again either with mis-attributed rage or with another sobbing fit. 

"Coffee machine," she said and points.

"Excellent," Juliette pushed through the large swinging door and Emily followed.

A few minutes later, Emily washed her hands and Juliette emerges from a stall behind her then approached the sink next to her. Emily watched her in the mirror.

"Sorry about everything last night...everything I said...the bed stuff...sorry."

"You were drunk, it's fine."

"It's not though."

Emily half-smiled as she dried her hands with a paper towel, "Where's the real Juliette and what have you done with her?"

"I'm also sorry for throwing that glass at you...and your shoes..."

"Seriously, where is the real Juliette Barnes right now? Are you some sort of body double that I've been tricked into driving to rehab?" She laughed. She really had already forgiven her. She always did. 

Juliette smiled faintly and then grabbed her wrist as she reaches for the door handle. "Can I ask you a serious question?"

"I hope it pertains to the flavor of coffee I want from the coffee machine."

She let out an exasperated laugh and then reaches past Emily to hold the door shut behind her, "Are you in love with me? I was mostly jokin' with my stupid kissin' comment early, but I sort of remember last night...and I was just...thinkin' and I-"

"Does it matter?" Emily quickly realized that responding with a question is essentially an admission. What she should have said was a simple, "No."

"I don't know. I have an awful headache. I feel like crap. Nothing makes sense to me right now." She sighed and released the door, "I guess it doesn't matter, does it? What flavor do you want?"

"Caramel," Emily told her and then opened the door. 

Juliette still seemed to want to talk about it although she decided it didn't matter. As she got the coffee she said, "Last night I tried to get you to...you know. You didn't. Why not?"

"You were wasted and you'd also just spent several long minutes hugging the toilet," Emily answered pleasantly.

"But if, hypothetically, you were into me..." she handed her the cardboard cup with a sleeve and plastic lid.

"I just told you," Emily said to her and takes the warm cup. "If I were hypothetically into you I'd want it to be...not that."

"God damn, you're a good person, aren't you?"

"I try," she said and unlocks the car. 

Juliette remained chatty after she buckled up. She sat her pillow on her lap and actually ate some of the crackers Emily bought for her and she said, "It must've been awful for you...seein' me like that. Hypothetically."

"Not hypothetically. It was awful for everyone that cares about you."

"Who else cares about me?"

"Avery. Glenn. Rayna."

"But you're the only one that showed up."

"Everyone tried in their own ways. It's just hard...caring about you. They all have other people, other things. Like, Avery had Cadence to worry about. People don't have enough room to worry about everyone they want to worry about. I do. I don't really have anyone else and I'm sorry it took me so long to show up."

"Don't apologize to me. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you..." she clutched her pillow to her chest.

"Oh, come on. That's bullshit. And don't start crying because I can't console you properly when I'm driving."

Juliette sniffled a bit, but didn't start to cry, she asked again, "Em, are you in love with me?"

"You said it didn't matter." Deflecting with another statement is another great way to basically admit to something, she realizes. She takes a sip of her too hot coffee then places it back in the cup holder and grips the steering wheel tightly. 

"I take it back. It does matter. I need to know how much I've hurt you."

"You haven't. I'm fine. I've got skin like a walrus...or, like, some animal with really thick skin. Don't even worry about it. Worry about your kid. Get yourself together for her."

"Emily," she said firmly, seriously. "How long?"

"Probably since about four months into working with you, but it doesn't matter!" She insisted, "It seriously doesn't matter. I'm fine. I'm ok with the whole thing." Emily then realized that repeatedly saying she's fine makes her seem less fine.

"Jesus. How did you..." her voice trailed off and then she tries again, "Why didn't you..." She trieed a third time, "My God, I would have wanted to die."

"If I died then who would have gotten your lattes for you?"

"Stop making jokes for five minutes."

"No."

"And stop talking back to me."

"I don't work for you anymore," she reminded her. "You fired me."

Juliette yelled into her pillow and then quieted. The coffee felt like it was solidifying in Emily's stomach. Talking about this was definitely not proving any sort of relief, much less taking a load off of her shoulders. It was actually awful. After a few minutes of heavy silence, Juliette speaks up again, "I feel like crap for not noticing.

"I'm good at secrets."

"All of the people I dated...everything I did. Oh, God. How did you just watch me do all of that?" Juliette gave her no time to respond, "And all of the times I was drunk, you'd pick me up and sleep on the couch. You never..."

"Of course I never fucking took advantage of you. I'm not a piece of shit human. You're straight and I knew it. I just wanted you to be happy and I did what I could to make sure you were ok without...without crossing a line to make myself seem...too, I don't know, invested. I didn't want to seem like a nut and for you to fire me because, I just..." she groaned and wrung her hands on the wheel. "I wanted to be around you."

"I was so mean to you..."

"You were nice too."

"Are you some sort of robot?"

"I'm not a robot," her voice hitched. She cleared her throat and reminded herself to keep it together. She reached down for coffee and it helps her get ahold of herself again. "You broke my heart when you were with Avery because I was so sure you'd found someone that would take care of you...that cared about you like I did. He did...well, he still does. You wouldn't need me anymore, but I...it was ok because it was what I wanted for you. God, I watched you with so many shitty dudes. Avery isn't a shitty dude. Then you went and you just left all of us..."

"I suck."

"You do suck. You really, really do," her words came out shrill and angry, but she can't take them back.

"You're going to bend your steering wheel if you don't relax," Juliette told her.

She didn't even realize how tightly she was holding on and that she was hunched forward like a granny driver that can't see the dividing lines. She rolled her shoulders and sits back. She said calmly, "You suck, but I'm still here."

"Because you're in love with me."

"Yes," she finally admitted it.

"And I accused you of sleeping with Avery. That's a little ironic, huh?"

"Yeah," she took a deep breath and grabs her coffee, which is almost cool enough to properly drink without burning off all of her tastebuds. She took the tiniest sip to test it and then said, "This is the Juliette I'm in love with. This one. The one that acts like a God damn person. That cares about other peoples' feelings, that listens, and that isn't a-"

"Monster."

"Pretty much..." Maybe she does feel a little lighter, just a little better.

"Would you be mad if I threw up in your car?"

"Yes," she answered flatly. "Do I need to pull over? Use that bag? Oh, Jesus. Don't."

"Sorry...sorry...I'm fine," Juliette laughed a little. "That was me trying to make a joke. I guess I'm a little rusty."

"I'd rather you call me a slut that puke in my car."

"Good to know." Juliette shifted her pillow over to the door again and laid her head down then asked, "Does Avery know? About you, I mean."

"No. I'm good at secrets. Will knows."

"Did you guys have some sort of gay pow-wow?"

"That's a little offensive on a couple different levels, but no. He sort of called me out after I told him about last night. I didn't even mean to tell him about last night. I sort of word-vomited the whole thing."

"Hey, will you pick me up from this rehab-detox-whatever?"

"Of course."

"I don't think I've gone this long without having a drink or taking something in weeks...unless I was asleep, but I think that little shit might have been injecting me with things in my sleep. I've got some weird punctures on my ass." She laughed a little then said, "I'm scared."

"Don't be. This place is like a spa retreat. I'd go with, but I don't think they like people to just go for fun when there are people that need to go for real."

"Take my black credit card out of my wallet and go on a real spa retreat, take Avery and Cadence. Hell, do whatever you want. Buy some presents for my kid. I don't even know what she likes, but you do."

"I can't-"

"Your an authorized user or whatever for all of my accounts, so you totally can. Take it. Just be back in time to pick me up from my little vacation. I don't know how else to make things right other than throwing money at them, so just take the damn card to make me feel better." Emily glanced over at her to see her eyes closed tightly, likely from headache not tiredness. She went on, "I basically killed Jeff, I've been unknowingly torturing you for years, I took a shit on Glenn who was like my dad, I'm a crap mom...so just take my money and do nice things for yourself and everyone I've been a monster to. Good God, take Layla with you on your spa retreat. I killed her damn boyfriend."

"Fine," she conceded, but had no intention of using it.

"If you don't take it, I'll hate you forever," she mumbled.

"You're probably going to hate me tomorrow when your actual withdrawals start to kick in."

"You're a basket of sunshine."

"That's why you paid me the big bucks."

"I can't hire you back knowing you're in love with me, you know that right? Find another job and just be my friend."

Emily smiled, "Yes, ma'am."

"Don't call me that unless you're into role-play."

"I am."

Juliette then shoved her face completely into her big down pillow. She said, "Don't make me laugh right now either, I have a killer headache."


End file.
